Little Bird

“Aren’t five sparrows sold for two cents?
God doesn’t forget any of them.”
Luke 12:6

She poked with her little beak from inside her shell. A glimmer of light peeked in and began to illuminate her dark, protective space. She liked that! Her tiny eyes began to see the only space she knew, and the light beyond, which was calling to her.

Soon she was free, able to fluff her soft down that was drying in the fresh air she was breathing for the first time. She began to try out her wings and learn to spread them out from their long, cramped shell-time. Mama Bird brought a little food, and Little Bird instinctively opened her tiny beak. Yum! She decided to just keep her little beak open . . . ready for the next tasty morsel of food.

Each day, she grew stronger. Her feathers began to appear through the soft down. She
practiced flapping her little wings. Mama brought little bugs and seeds for her. But one day,
Mama didn’t come. Little Bird had to find her own bugs as she waited in her nest.

She remembers the day when Mama came, but with no food. She had decided it was time to send Little Bird out of the nest. It was scary! Her wings did not work very well yet. She had never been out in the air by herself.

Her fall was rather traumatic, but she somehow was able to flap her little wings enough to
soften the blow of the earth upon which she landed. This strange new space upon which she now must learn seemed unending. It was full of interesting, yet scary, new discoveries.
In her fall, one of her little wings had been damaged. She had to learn new skills to compensate for her wounded wing. She couldn’t fly like the other birds. Her flight style was tough. . . She couldn’t soar. She could “flap” and get around her earth space enough to survive, but it was not with the freedom and grace of other birds.

But God’s Eye was on her. He knew of her fall and of the damage it had caused to her. And she knew instinctively that He was keeping watch.

One day, a handsome male bird caught her attention. And she caught his. He was strong. He
was safe. He wanted to make a nest with her. He had chosen her.

At first, it was exciting . . . wonderful . . . lovely. But over time, the damage done by her
premature first flight would get in the way of her ability to soar as other birds did. She had to find ways to compensate. She had to be tough, to make up for the damage done by her fledgling wounds. “Normal” was not easy for her. She was not like most birds of her little world. Her old wounds affected her ability to truly “soar.” But she could flap well… not as gracefully or easily as most, but she learned to compensate enough to make her life work.

Her damaged wing would never be completely mended, but she was still the same little bird who had freed herself from her shell. She was strong. She could fly, in her own unique way.
She was still that little bird who had survived and learned how to compensate for the wounds she carries. And one day, as she continues to battle her limitations, she may truly be able to soar, in her own unique way.